


An Old Record

by Spiria



Category: Tales of Legendia
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 05:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiria/pseuds/Spiria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" . . . may he lead a good long life recording the events of tomorrow." For Oscar, tomorrow is a great many things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Old Record

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Athena, who might notice especially due to the name of a certain character.

Most Ferines are born with eyes the color of the sea. Some have grayer tints, others darker shades, not unlike the color of their hair. They represent all the tones of the sea from surface to depth, for they are the children of Nerifes, and it is the greatest resemblance they bear to the water.

Oscar is born with green eyes. His mother tells him at every opportunity that his is the best color, because it reminds her of the brightest sea and others that the sea, too, has more than one appearance. She says so once in a few days, often while Oscar is climbing onto her lap to give a hug. He is his mother’s son, and everyone comments that he takes after her in all but his nose, which he has inherited from his father. The slanted shape of his eyes belong to his mother.

Once wary of his difference, the adults realize now that Oscar is still, indeed, a child of Nerifes and dismiss their suspicions. The children are less tactful and ask why he has green eyes when everyone else’s are blue.

“Because the sea can be green, too,” says Oscar.

The children appear content with the answer and resume their play. None of them have seen a green sea before, but they have not seen a great many things. They are forbidden from leaving the village without the Chief’s express permission, and that is the business of adults. They choose to believe Oscar, because he is their friend and playmate.

When the children disperse in the late afternoon, the Chief comes to sit beside Oscar by the lake. The Chief is an elderly man with a wizen face and a kind, gentle tone. He asks if Oscar has ever seen a green sea, and Oscar shakes his head.

“Did your mother tell you, then?” asks the Chief.

“She said a green sea is bright and lively,” says Oscar. He points to the lake in front of them. “The blue sea is dim and calm.”

He trails off, the ends of his brows furrowing together. The Chief notices and waits patiently.

“But the lake isn’t calm,” says Oscar at last.

“What do you mean?”

“When we swim in it,” Oscar starts, referring to his playmates, “it sounds calm, because we can’t hear the outside. It’s blue and heavy, so I get sleepy if I stay too long. But it feels too angry to sleep in . . . Is Nerifes mad at the Orerines?”

His mother has told him tales of the Orerines and the history they share with the Ferines. She also sings him a hymn about it whenever she is in a musical mood, though his father lightheartedly discourages Oscar from imitating, because they, all of them, are a little tone deaf.

As he thinks about it, Oscar wonders what the Orerines look like; if their hair is as blond as the Ferines, or their eyes as blue or green, or their clothes as white and blue and yellow. He had asked, once, but his mother does not know. She has never left the village. She does not mind this fact, so Oscar does not mind, either.

Beside him, the Chief gives him a long, thoughtful look. When Oscar stares back, his eyes wide and searching, the Chief’s features soften.

“Nerifes is simply sad for us,” says the Chief. “Anger is a byproduct of that sadness. Madness is not what Nerifes wishes of us, Oscar. As children of the sea, we should seek happiness and share it among each other. That happiness shall soothe Nerifes. You must remember that.”

Oscar turns his head back toward the lake, his legs fidgeting before him, and nods. He promises to to the Chief that he would pray more henceforth, because as the will of the sea, Nerifes should share in some of that happiness.

There are many things that Oscar does not know, and many other things that he promises to deliver. That is what the Chief tells him on the day of his naming ceremony, shortly after Oscar has summoned his teriques for the first time, as the Chief bestows unto him a true name that, at first, sounds too literal.

Welares, may he lead a good long life recording the events of tomorrow. Oscar thinks about the “green” in that name, but accepts that his difference from the others is not the reason, even though he does not understand what the Chief means and what records have to do with him. He is a child of the water, like the rest of them, and he would like to see the future at everyone’s side. He does not have much time to discuss his true name at length with his mother at home, for the village’s barrier shatters not long after.

His first taste of the Orerines is at the entrance to his home, where his mother bends over him to shield him from the swift stroke of a sword. She crashes to the floor. Oscar is too confused to lift a finger, even as a Ferines man he has never seen around the village appears to take him away. Over the man’s shoulder, he watches the collapsed form of his mother in the distancing doorway, an odd red permeating throughout and contrasting with the blue of her top.

The man hands him over to another stranger, blond and blue-eyed and dressed in white and blue, accompanied by a few familiar faces who gather around them protectively. Oscar glances over his shoulder; the man is Ferines and has a severe look. His eyes are sharp.

“Wait, Laurent,” calls the stranger out to the man with the severe face. “We’ve gotten as many as we could. You mustn’t go back!”

The man named Laurent vanishes into the chaos. He disappears with it as the village goes up in one giant smoke, razed to the earth with only ashes to speak of its prior existence.

By then, Oscar has already been moved far away alongside a handful of his neighbors. They have lost their pursuant, though the knowledge does not comfort any of them.

Unlike his older neighbors, Oscar is carried on the back of the stranger, because he is too young to keep pace. As a result, he has the best viewpoint of the surroundings among the small group, but the only thing he sees is the expanse of land. His mind make his gaze drift and lose focus. He lays numbly on the stranger's back, his mouth dry from the lack of abundant water between themselves, and thinks about nothing.

The stranger, though no longer a stranger for he has given a name, apologizes once for their tragedy, promising them a new life at his village. He speaks little of it and nobody asks, because they are too busy mourning their friends and loved ones. So the stranger falls quiet, until he mutters to himself not long after:

“Laurent failed to meet us at the rendezvous point . . . “

Nothing more is said, save the sobs of the villagers. On their journey to the borders of Crusand and Rexalia, Oscar, then 10 years of age, concludes that his father must have joined his mother.

They are welcomed by the Chief of Laurent’s village, Maurits, upon arrival, where they are also received by the Merines. The older neighbors fall to their knees in shock and joy, admiring the figure grasping at the material of the Chief’s robe at his side.

At the man’s back, Oscar watches in muted awe. The Merines looks like a little girl to him.

The new village is not that different from the old village. Oscar has no trouble adapting to the local tradition and environment, though he steers clear from the children. They are not his playmates, and these children do not play the same games. Instead, Oscar observes the village lake, whereupon he swims to the bottom and sits, wondering, and understands that this, too, is angry. When he resurfaces, and the lake is not very deep, he notices a pair of shoed feet in front of him.

The shoes belong to a boy younger than him. Oscar’s gaze goes to the boy’s eyes first, which are sharp for his age. They remind him of Laurent.

“What are you doing?” asks the boy.

Oscar cocks his head to the side, arms rested on the grass to keep himself propped up in the water. This is the first time anyone in the village has challenged his activities, and he is a little nervous, even if he reasons that the one asking is a little boy. It is a little boy with a fierce look, and Oscar is unsure if he has done something to upset him.

“Swimming,” he answers. He adds: “My name is Oscar.”

With an impassive look from start to finish, the boy turns around and leaves.

Oscar finds the man who had rescued him from the Orerines and learns that the boy is called Walter, the eight-year-old son of Laurent, then motherless, now fatherless. The man explains that Walter’s mother had died soon after childbirth, and the fact confuses Oscar. Remembering his own mother, a part of him wants to talk to Walter about her. But he decides against it, because Walter no longer has a father and that is as bad.

The next time Oscar meets Walter, it is again by the lake. He starts off with a basic “hi,” but the greeting goes ignored. Walter glares back, and Oscar thinks he is shy with words.

“You never told me your name, so I asked. You’re Walter, right? Let’s be friends,” says Oscar, and as he expects, he hears silence.

Walter’s quietude lasts a moment. He examines Oscar from a distance before he says, “You’re from that village . . . ”

“I met Laurent,” Oscar starts, observing Walter’s reaction. “He brought me here.”

Just like the first time, Walter scurries off.

The man had said Walter was never the easiest child to get along with, but Oscar disagrees. Every encounter gets him one reply or gesture, and he believes that is progress. Walter is just shy, especially now that his father has gone, and Oscar wants to show that he understands and will be there. He does not like the thought of someone younger than him going through what he has.

He suspects that nobody has ever really tried to get to know Walter, either because he is too young or too quiet for the other children, since Walter begins to tell him things apparently no one knows one day.

His biggest reveal is many months later, when he stretches his fingers and shows his palm, atop which a black teriques unfurls. He is nine years old, and Oscar is simply amazed.

“Wow, Walter! I didn’t know you learned to do that already.”

“I learned last year,” says Walter.

“You were eight last year . . . "

Walter replies that he knows.

Bewildered, Oscar draws back with the confusion evident in the creases in his face. To summon a teriques at the age of nine is already an impressive feat; most draw theirs a few years later. But Walter has summoned his at the age of eight. He must have set a new record.

Oscar is not surprised to know that the record setter would be Walter, who has always looked older than he is.

“How come you didn’t tell anyone? Nobody’s ever done it at your age!” he exclaims.

“I wanted to show my father first,” answers Walter. "But he never came back."

Once Maurits is informed of Walter’s talent, a modest naming ceremony is held with Oscar at the front. He is thus the third to hear Walter’s true name, after Maurits and Walter himself: Delques, one who brings the end as the Merines' hand. It is another true name with a color, but Oscar is distracted by what had been kept from him the entire time.

“Is that why you train so hard all the time, even though you’re so little?” he asks after the ceremony. “Because you’re supposed to be the Merines’ personal guard?”

“I’m not supposed to be. I am," Walter answers defensively.

“How come you never told me?”

“I thought you knew."

Oscar pulls back, nodding slowly with a wayward glance. He knows now that Walter’s position is well-known, but it is not a popular topic. It is possible even the Merines herself does not know, if an outsider could be oblivious to the fact. Walter does not like to mingle with people on his own; he had told Oscar why, once, and Oscar has been guarding his secret since.

Maybe the Merines does know, but Oscar has no way of knowing. She probably does not remember him.

The day of Walter's naming ceremony is a day of mounting confusion for Oscar. He does not know how he should feel about Walter's predetermined life. As he lays in bed, staring at the ceiling, he eventually reasons that as long as Walter is happy with the decisions, then he can share in that happiness, too. And so, that night, he prays.

A few years later, an Orerines boy is found. Oscar observes him from the distance. He is surprised that Maurits has allowed the Orerines boy, white-haired and blue-eyed, to stay. But unlike the Orerines clad in armor in his memories, the boy is young and skinny. He is a lost child, and the Ferines, who value the lives of the young, are eager to help him.

Walter is unhappy with the decision. His hands balled into fists, his shoulders are tight and tense.

"It'll probably be for a little while. Just until he's better and older enough to take care of himself," says Oscar.

"He's Orerines. Why was he even allowed in?" asks Walter, glaring.

"You'd have to ask Maurits. But I don't think he'll cause problems for us," Oscar explains, "and he doesn't seem to be an eren. It'll be fine, Walter. If worse comes to worst, you're here, aren't you?"

That appeases Walter. Oscar takes that opportunity to usher him away from their viewing spot, so they can take their mind off the Orerines boy eating in the house across them. It only half works, because Walter is too stubborn to be distracted. It works even less when he later notices that the Merines has taken a shine to the boy named Senel.

Oscar begins to worry after that. Walter is almost always on edge, and he does not pay attention to the things they do well anymore. He swims more aggressively, but the violence behind his strokes does not quell his temper. Oscar asks him to be careful.

"How can you be so calm? The Merines is being fooled by an Orerines!" shouts Walter over the table.

"She's the Merines, Walter," Oscar reminds him. "In the end, she'll do what's best for us, her people, won't she?"

Once the day of Shirley Fennes' Rite of Accession arrives, Oscar's heart palpitates. He wishes Shirley to succeed, so she can lay Walter's concerns to rest and acknowledge him as the personal guard of her reborn self.

When Shirley collapses with a haunting cry, the color drains from Walter's face.

Oscar follows him aside, away from prying eyes fixated on the fallen form of the failed Merines. He reaches out for a shoulder, only for his hand to be swat away. It is a mistake he realizes the moment he makes it, because Walter now has another problem to fret over. With a silent intake of breath, he crouches beside Walter.

"It's fine. I'm not mad," says Oscar.

Walter blinks furiously.

"It's his fault," he says. "He tricked her into failing."

Oscar, who does not to what to blame, nods. There is nobody for Walter to share his feelings and suspicions, and no one else suspects Senel of foul play. Hence, Oscar's duty is to sit down and listen to him. That is what a friend does, and he is the only friend Walter has.

The days pass in eerie silence in the village. The Merines has fallen into a comatose state, and everyone has begun to fear, while Senel and Stella, Shirley's older sister, sit at Shirley's bedside. The Ferines are desperate for hope and pray, beseeching Nerifes to listen. Oscar cannot participate in prayer, because he is busy keeping an eye on Walter, who looks ready to do something reckless and is quieter than usual.

The fate of the Merines appears grim, until the day she makes a miraculous recovery. Oscar learns that it was the doing of the Tear of the Sea, which Senel and Stella had gone out to find, and Walter is furious.

Oscar does not like Walter's temper much. Although it is endearing, he worries that it will end in Walter hurting himself. While he does not like Senel much, either, deep down, he acknowledges that the Merines survived because of him. Considering the risks taken to retrieve the stone, Oscar will never admit it aloud.

"They left the barrier. They could have been followed," says Walter. He addresses both Senel and Stella, but Oscar knows that he only really means Senel, because Stella is a Ferines.

He has suspected the possibility from the start, but the gravity of it only falls on Oscar after Walter says it. He wonders if the same fate his village had suffered will befall this one, too, even though it is the village of the Merines.

When Crusand attacks, the villagers scatter in vain attempts to escape and are captured or killed. He and Walter are by a thicket when it happens, so they are safer than most. Yet, when he tries to run to the village, Oscar grabs Walter by the arm.

"Don't go," he says, eyes wide.

Walter wrenches his arm free, tells him to go, then makes a mad dash without a glance back. He is lost in the screams and fire, and Oscar is forced to flee without him, unaware of who else has survived.

Alone and aimless, Oscar passes the following days in terror. He is found by Maurits near an isolated body of water, where he falls to his knees and cries, because he wants the nightmare to end. Even Maurits does not know where Walter has gone.

Under Maurits' guidance, Oscar travels and mingles with the Orerines with an ear peeled for signs of a boy with black wings. That description alone is unlikely, but he hopes for the chance, even if he and Maurits have relocated to Gadoria. Once, there is talk of heading to the Legacy. Their numbers are too few and their power too meager to attempt the journey, so Maurits tells him later, when it is more opportune for them, and Oscar wants to find Walter before that happens.

While in a store run by an elderly man, whose elderly wife hands him a piece of fruit every visit, Oscar, comparing prices of foods to stock, stops mid-read when word of a large bat reaches him from the daily gossip. He drops the apple the elderly wife had given him and everything else he has gathered, and scurries out of the store before breaking into a run.

It has been sighted at a forest near the outskirts of town, he had heard a lady say, though it must have moved deeper in by now. A wounded creature does not linger where it is vulnerable.

"Maurits!" he shouts upon throwing open the door, then continues, "Maurits, the forest – "

Maurits rises from his seat and calmly interrupts: "Calm down, Oscar. What happened at the forest?"

"He's there," says Oscar between pants. "They saw a large bat."

Walter is in a delirious state when they find him tucked between wide bushes. He does not appear to recognize them, and he rambles nonsense even as Oscar holds him and assures him that everything will be all right with a knotted throat. Maurits and Oscar's modest lodging is at the outskirts, so Walter is brought there and unnoticed by the townsmen.

After a thorough examination, Maurits deduces that Walter's survival is a miracle. All signs point to Walter avoiding human interaction and fending for himself in the many weeks he has been missing, and he is sound in body, if malnourished and weak. What has taken the brunt of suffering is his mind. Maurits asks Oscar to be attentive and careful; the first few hours of his mental recovery will determine the rest.

Oscar is allowed to stay by Walter's side until his full recovery. What follows is a blur, as well as events he has promised to never to bring up again, because Walter should not have to relive that agony. Oscar considers him strong, still, for making such a swift progress and surprising even Maurits with the rate he determines to do work and heals.

Walter's mettle must have given Maurits the initiative he was looking for, Oscar thinks. He sees a leader in Walter, in whose eyes anger and passion well. Within a month, they board the Legacy according to Crusand's movements.


End file.
